


The Commander of the First Legion

by chaosLydia



Category: Star Wars Legends: Thrawn Trilogy - Timothy Zahn, Star Wars: Rebels, thrawn alliances
Genre: Gen, Mature warning is for a ton of swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:55:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23464291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaosLydia/pseuds/chaosLydia
Summary: Captain Kimmund is a new transfer to Mustafar. It's his last chance to make an impression in the Empire.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 9





	The Commander of the First Legion

**Author's Note:**

> Kimmund's name Arjean is pronounced the French way of saying "Jean."
> 
> Most of the warnings is for a ton of swearing.

“This is stupid. Look at these pricks,” Captain Arjean Kimmund shook his head looking over the newest recruits arriving in the hanger on Mustafar. All of these bright eyed kids were apparently coming from the best school on Coruscant. But Kimmund could smell the bullshit. He grew up poor and knew what real soldiers looked like. These were not the best soldiers. These were whiny fucking little rich boys whose mommies and daddies paid for them to be here so they could either play army or get in the good graces of Lord Vader. This was supposed to be the First Legion, not some frat house for these fucks.

“Oh yeah, you’re new here,” Sergeant Rosiland Rozetto huffed. Her face was covered by her helmet, but Kimmund sensed she was smirking. Now she was a good officer. Good head on her shoulders, had a lot of good tactical ideas and military plans. Her father had fought in the Clone Wars so she learned to shoot at a young age. Dark skin with freckles and fiery curly red hair, she was a knockout in the looks department too. She had a thick accent that probably kept her from getting further in the ranks as all the bullshit upper class guys probably thought she was some low class person. But Kimmund could see that she knew her shit. Roz continued, “This shit got worse when Venderbilt took over as Commander. It’s like he’s called up all his old Academy buddies to ship their kids on over.”

Kimmund watched all the new troops line up outside the transport shuttle. He crossed his arms while shaking his head, “This is the kind of shit that’s gonna get us killed. Probably only half of these guys really know how to fight. I’m surprised Lord Vader put Venderbilt in charge.”

“Lord Vader is pretty hands-off when it comes to Commanders,” Roz said in a low voice. Probably because they never knew where one of his Inquisitors was lurking around. “When the previous Commander was demoted back to the 501st, the Grand Inquisitor just stuck the next highest ranking officer in the spot. That just happened to be Venderbilt.” She leaned in, “Between you and me, I heard he bought his way onto Mustafar. Word has it that his brother is some hot shot politician trying to go get into the High Council and his sister is a board member in a mining company.”

“There’s the problem right there.” Kimmund started across the hanger. “Does he have any actual credentials?”

“He went from Navy to Army just to work here when a spot opened up. People say he-”

“Paid his way in. I got it. Venderbilt sucks. Still,” Kimmund stopped short of the troopers and looked them over, “He’s our commanding officer. We should show some respect.”

“I’ll respect him when he treats the women here better,” Roz grumbled.

Kimmund faced her, “What do you mean?”

She turned her helmet away a moment before carefully saying, “He’s… grabby… and calls us ungrateful cunts when… we don’t return his advances.”

Kimmund didn’t think he could hate Venderbilt anymore than in that one moment. Stupid, rich prick. Taking the datapad from her, he said quietly, “Sounds like I need to accidentally shoot someone in the nuts.”

She snorted and shook her head, “You best be careful. Don’t make waves here. That’s how you die.”

“This is my last chance. I’ll waste it how I want.” Turning to the rich little boys staring back at them, Kimmund took off his helmet and glared them all down. Raising his voice to a commanding level, he called, “I’m Captain Arjean Kimmund. This is the First Legion. And you’re the shittiest fucks I’ve ever seen…”

“You can’t call new recruits a bunch of shitty fucks!” Venderbilt’s face was red behind his mustache. A product of the Clone Wars riding that wave through the ranks, Venderbilt was part of the first group of officers to find their footing in the Empire when the war ended. Behind him, all his plaques and medals from throughout the years hung on his office walls. 

Kimmund thought those dinosaurs should get out of the freaking way for younger men like him to rise in the ranks. Standing at attention in Venderbilt’s office, Kimmund fought hard to keep his face stoic. He wanted to glare down this older man, show his own disgust, and also punch him in the face a few times. Maybe get a crotch punch in as well for Roz. He cleared his throat, “Just telling the truth, sir. I read all of their files and-”

“You would know that they came from the finest academy on Coruscant!” Venderbilt’s mustache twitched. 

Don’t grimace… 

Kimmund continued, “Most of them have never seen combat. I thought this was an elite unit. This isn’t some training grounds for first-timers.”

Movement caught the corner of his eye. Kimmund almost forgot another person had been watching from the side. The Grand Inquisitor stood against the wall just slightly behind him. The Pau’an heard about the incident from one of his Inquisitors and wished to see this exchange. Kimmund hadn’t been here long, but he picked up that the Grand Inquisitor was Lord Vader’s right hand. Which meant he outranked Kimmund by quite a lot.

Venderbilt huffed, “I chose each of them specifically to come join our ranks on the grounds of home growing elite fighters.”

“Won’t be elite when they all get killed off.”

Damn. Kimmund couldn’t keep that one in.

“You are not one to talk!” Venderbilt smacked a hand on his desk. “I’ve read your file too, Captain Kimmund. A journeyman with a problem with authority. You’ve been shipped to eleven different infantry groups in the last three years for insubordination and once to avoid a court marshalling for punching a superior officer!”

Kimmund smirked.

Venderbilt’s face turned darker, “You think this is funny? That this is all just a game?”

“No, sir. I call out bullshit when I see it. And my previous commanding officer was a bullshitter.”

“It was Commander Ryker of the 313th Legion who was a colleague of mine from the Clone Wars.”

“I see why you two are friends.”

“What is that supposed to mean!”

Kimmund finally shut his mouth, but he still wore his smirk.

Venderbilt huffed once more and turned towards the Pau’an in the room, “My apologies, Grand Inquisitor. It seems my new Captain has a bit of a mouth on him. He’s lucky that he has amazing scores in his shooting and combat skills. What Kimmund lacks in manners, he makes up for in fighting. It was the only reason that Commander Ryker shoved him off on us.”

The Grand Inquisitor held up his hand, and Venderbilt fell silent. Kimmund noticed a small touch of fear pass over Venderbilt’s face.

Kimmund heard movement before the Inquisitor came into his view. He was tall, but most Pau’ans towered over humans. This dude was all teeth and elbows on the surface, but Jean could tell there was a power inside of him. In fact, he could feel the energy coming off this man. Jean had heard that Lord Vader and the Inquisitors used some kind of magic called the Force. All of them were equipped with red laser swords like the one on the Inquisitor's back that could cut through anything. Unlike other troopers in the First Legion who feared the Inquisitorious, Kimmund thought that they were pretty freaking awesome.

Though without his helmet on, Jean felt a bit exposed as those glowing yellow eyes bore into him. He swore he could feel energy moving around him, like the air had become filled with electrical currents. What was weirder was Jean had the sensation of someone feeling around in his mind. Was this the Force? Was the Inquisitor scanning his brain or something? Kimmund steeled his gaze, staring right back into the Inquisitor’s eyes. He wasn’t going to look away from this test. 

After several moments of silence, the Inquisitor stood up straighter and nodded, “You’re free to go, Captain Kimmund.”

“Thank you, sir,” Kimmund nodded to him and turned for the door.

“What!” Venderbilt exclaimed, “Inquisitor, if I may-!”

A sharp look from the Grand Inquisitor silenced him immediately.

“Ha!” Kimmund blurted out. But when both of their eyes fell on him once more, Jean realized he should take his victory and get out of there. He put his helmet back on and hurried out of the room.

The Grand Inquisitor could sense Commander Venderbilt’s disagreement at letting the Captain go. That was fine. The Inquisitor never liked Venderbilt that much anyway. The man was a sniveling coward whose fear guided him in combat. Only key victories outweighed Venderbilt’s growing losses in his time as Commander. It was the only reason he still had his head.

But this new Captain…

This Kimmund showed no fear in front of an Inquisitor. Whereas Venderbilt hesitated to even walk past a member of the Inquisitorious in a hallway, Kimmund stood his ground. Yes, the Grand Inquisitor sensed confusion and curiosity towards him. Few ever saw an Inquisitor and lived to tell about it.

But Kimmund gazed back at him, brave and defiant. Not like a caged animal, but as a predator ready to defend his territory. That man was a fighter, ready to engage even with the unknown. Someone willing to instigate. While rough around the edges, it was clear that Kimmund respected Venderbilt’s rank up to the point where the Commander’s rubbish grew too great for the Captain to hold his tongue any longer. A man like that was the kind that Lord Vader might take interest in. 

“Inquisitor?” Venderbilt tried again.

“What planet is Captain Kimmund from?”

“I… I don’t know, sir. I can look into it.”

“No need. Thank you for inviting me, Commander. This was most enlightening.” Before Venderbilt could say anything else, the Inquisitor left the room. 

“Geez, he’s still making you do bitch work? It’s been almost two weeks!” Roz tucked her helmet under her arm so Kimmund could see her grimace. She stood in front of a line of new AT-ST’s recently delivered to the planet. The five heavy artillery walkers had been ordered by Commander Venderbilt as means to help guard the castle from Mustafarian tribes that attacked from time to time. Now, the walkers dripped with water from their cleaning.

Which is exactly what Jean had been doing the last few hours. Putting down the hose, he picked up a wide brush on a long handle, “Yeah, I guess I really pissed off Old Vendy. Good. Hope he suffocates from his head being up his own ass.”

She laughed and looked up at the walkers, “You really shouldn’t push him more.”

“Why do you think I’m out here actually doing this bullshit work instead of training troops?”

“You’re not missing much. Those new recruits suck, just like you said.”

Kimmund smirked, “You know what also sucks? These walkers.”

She glanced at him, “Because this is a lava planet?”

“Exactly,” Jean slung soap suds up to one of the walkers and scrubbed at it. “I feel bad for the poor fuck who test drives one of these things. Once it gets outside of the heat shields around the castle, the person inside is gonna cook alive. I voiced my concern to Old Vendy, and he pretty much told me to fuck off.”

“What a load of shite,” Roz shook her head.

Suddenly, a low siren sounded from the castle. It was the attack alarm calling them to action. But it was specifically the one used for when the locals got restless. The Mustafarians were coming to attack.

Dropping the brush, Kimmund rushed back inside with Roz to prepare for battle.

This was the biggest shit show Kimmund ever witnessed in his military career. The Mustafarians had made it inside the heat shields of the castle. They had easily destroyed three of the new AT-ST’s after they stopped moving outside near the lava pits. Kimmund assumed the pilots inside died quick and painful deaths from the heat.

Now with Roz at his side, they were holding the second line. Down below them in the valley, the new recruits were squaring off one on one with the locals. Most of those poor kids had no idea how to fight outside of simulations. Lieutenant Commander Boswin was down with them. Boswin was a pretty good Commander who made up for a lot of Venderbilt’s ineptitude. After a few chats, Kimmund liked him well enough.

Looking through his rifle scope, Kimmund picked off another Mustafarian. As he reloaded, he screamed over the fray, “Where the hell are the Inquisitors!?”

Roz fired her own rifle down at the invaders, “Why would they be here?”

“Why not! This is their base too!”

“Venderbilt thinks they're creepy!”

“What about air support!”

“Vendy put the ships in maintenance this morning?”

“All of them!?” Jean rolled his eyes. “Of course he did!”

An explosion went off two hundred yards away to their left. There, a group of lava flea riding Mustafarians scuttled out of the smoke and into the yard where the heavy artillery was kept. Jean turned his rifle and looked through his scope. They were stealing whatever they could carry and blowing up with detonators everything else that was too big.

“Fuck! Where is Venderbilt?” Turning around, Kimmund saw who he was looking for.

Commander Venderbilt stood in the doorway of the castle watching the battle unfold. He didn’t look like some great leader of the First Legion. He was pale and shaking. Eyes wide as fear took over him. And then, he opened his mouth and two words were shouted from his lips, “Fall back!”

What? They were running? Why were they running? This shouldn’t be a losing battle! This was a stupidly easy battle to win.

Kimmund gazed down to the valley again. The troopers down there didn’t hear the orders. Only the men around him were retreating. On the ground starting to sizzle from the heat, Jean spotted Lieutenant Commander Boswin laying there with a blaster sized hole in his chest.

Those new recruit kids were the bait. They were the lambs that Venderbilt was willing to sacrifice while the rest of them regrouped their forces. Oh god, all those stupid rich kids were going to die out there.

Shouldering his rifle, Kimmund hopped over the battlements.

“Jean!” Roz called after him. “Where are you going?”

“Someone’s got to save our necks!” Kimmund screamed back as he sprinted down the gravel and rocky slope into the valley. 

He could see the entire battle. He understood how they got into their positions. They bottled themselves in the valley. But from his higher vantage point, he spotted where they could make their escape.

More importantly, he knew where and how he and these fucking rich kids would make their stand.

The Grand Inquisitor was not pleased to be standing in the main hanger staring down a sniveling excuse of a man. Half an hour ago, Commander Venderbilt ordered the castle on full lockdown to hold off the Mustafarian invaders. The command was given for the battlements of the castle to pick off the remaining threat. But already word had reached the Grand Inquisitor that their outdoor shipping yards were being pillaged and destroyed. He’d seen enough and called together the Inquisitors that he had stationed at the castle.

The Grand Inquisitor sneered, “Open those doors so my Inquisitors and I may clean up your mess.”

A small excited cheer rose up behind him. His Inquisitors were smelling blood, ready to taste the excitement of battle.

But Venderbilt shook his head, “My reports say that they are retreating, sir. There is no need to involve your.... team into my affairs.”

“Wrong answer,” the Grand Inquisitor glared down at him. “I’ll deal with you later. Sergeant Rozetto, open the door.”

As Roz entered the code to unlock the seals, the heavy doors began to part, groaning under their weight. The Grand Inquisitor sized up Venderbilt. The man sniveled before him already making up excuse after excuse why this wasn’t his fault.

The Inquisitor had seen enough of this pathetic man.

The doors were open just enough, and they could see a group of people outside the entryway. Suddenly, one of the people threw something inside. Most scattered out of the way fearing a mine or detonator. But with perfect aim, the item hit Venderbilt square in the face. Stumbling back, Venderbilt held his nose and glanced down.

It was Lieutenant Commander Boswin’s helmet that hit him.

A voice echoed from the door, “Medic! We need some medics over here!”

There was Kimmund holding a trooper up on one side. The new recruit troopers were with him as they all stumbled in. Only half of them had survived. It was more than the Grand Inquisitor thought would have made it.

The Grand Inquisitor pushed by Venderbilt and stalked up to Kimmund who was favoring one of his legs. The Pau’an demanded, “Report. What happened?”

“The Mustafarians have retreated. Boswin is dead. My men and I got out of death valley and was able to save half of the heavy artillery shipyard,” Kimmund passed the injured trooper on his arm off to a medic. “We held our position outside the main hangar door until they left.”

“Your men?” The Inquisitor lifted his eyebrow. 

Kimmund wasn’t looking at him. No. No, the Captain had his gaze set on the Commander of the First Legion.

Shoving the Grand Inquisitor out of the way and with half of the First Legion and the Inquisitorius watching, Captain Arjean Kimmund removed his helmet, dropped it on the ground, marched up to his commanding officer, and punched Venderbilt as hard as he could in the jaw.

“You fuck!” Kimmund’s voice echoed all around them. “You stupid fuck! Your men died out there today and you fucking ran away like a coward!”

“How dare you!” Venderbilt stumbled up to his feet. “I did not run! We were outnumbered and outflanked!”

“No we weren’t!” Kimmund pointed at him. “That was a stupidly easy battle to win and your direction fucked us every single step of the way!”

Venderbilt laughed venomously, “Oh if you’re such a great tactical genius, then please tell me how you would have fixed this no win situation, great Captain Kimmund!”

“For one, I would have used them from the start!” Kimmund pointed to the amused members of the Inquisitorius. “Why not use them? They’re fucking Force users with laser swords! They’re some of the most elite fighters on Mustafar!”

“They do not wish to engage in our day to day skirmishes.”

“Oh really?” Kimmund faced the Inquisitors, “Hey! Guys! Did you want to go out and kill a bunch of invaders today?”

The biggest of them pumped a fist, “Always!”

Venderbilt waved it off, “He has no say on this matter!”

Kimmund shook his head in disbelief, “ _Her!_ That’s the Ninth Sister, you stupid bitch. You don’t even know your own Inquisitors!”

“They are not my Inquisitors to weild.”

“But you could have asked Mr. Grand here! Word has it you’re too fucking chicken shit scared of all of them that you won’t even go that far!”

“I’ve heard enough of this!” Venderbilt’s face grew so red it was almost purple. “You two troopers, escort Captain Kimmund to the brig.” He sneered at Jean, “I’ll have you court martialed for this. This was your last chance. And you blew it.”

As the two troopers approached, Kimmund put a finger in Venderbilt’s face, “In that case, you should know that you’re a terrible commander that puts the entire First Legion, the Grand Inquisitor, and Lord Vader to shame! We are all on the same side! We should be fighting together and not against each other! The Inquisitors and the First Legion are all on the same side! I might not have met Lord Vader, but I know for a fact that the bullshit that happened today is a disgrace to everything around us! Everything he built! So fuck you and fuck you’re ugly ass caterpillar mustache too, ya dumb pussy grabbing cunt!”

“Take him away!” Venderbilt roared once again.

Kimmund shrugged off the guards’ hands and paced towards the door, “I can walk myself to the brig…”

Moving through the hallways of Mustafar heading towards the lower levels, Jean felt his anger subsiding.

And he wondered if he just blew his last chance to make it somewhere in the Empire.

The Grand Inquisitor watched Captain Kimmund and the two guards leave the room. As Venderbilt opened his mouth, the Inquisitor turned away from him. He was tired of this man’s words.

But the Inquisitor saw that Kimmund’s words had struck a nerve with the troops. He spotted Roz with her helmet off talking with two other men, all of their disgruntled glares directed at Venderbilt. They weren’t the only unhappy troopers in the room. The Inquisitors watched hungrily as dissent filled the room.

And Venderbilt saw it too. Everyone around him judged harshly. 

Good. It was about time.

The Grand Inquisitor dismissed the room calling for patrols to resume, scouts to make sure the Mustafarians were gone, and maintenance to start repairs. 

But as he dismissed his Inquisitors, he heard the Seventh Sister say to the Ninth, “I wish we got to fight from the start like that guy said.”

And the other Inquisitors agreed.

A thought came to him. Perhaps the Grand Inquisitor and his master had given too much leniency to the Commanders of the First Legion. Venderbilt was the third Commander since its formation, quite a high number for it’s short time in operation.

Or maybe they just hadn’t found the right person for the job yet.

The Grand Inquisitor left and went straight to the surveillance room. The officers startled at his appearance, but they were quick to process his request. They finished up and handed him a datacard. Minutes later, the Grand Inquisitor was outside of his Master’s office.

He didn’t need to knock. His Master sensed him coming.

The door slid open, and the Grand Inquisitor came in. His Master stood by the window overlooking the lava pits below. The orange glow illuminated the metal mask in the dark room. Kneeling in the center of the room, the Inquisitor said in a low voice, “Lord Vader, I apologize for disturbing you.”

“What is it?” Darth Vader’s voice filled the room between his raspy breaths. 

“As I’m sure you’re aware, there was an attack by the Mustafarians today. It was a complete failure due to Commander Venderbilt’s lack of leadership.”

Vader turned from the window, “This must please you. You’ve wished to have him removed. See to it then.”

“Sir,” the Grand Inquisitor kept his head down, “His replacement Lieutenant Commander Boswin was killed in today’s battle.”

Lord Vader approached him, “I sense conflict in you.” 

“Not conflict. If I may speak freely?”

“Proceed.”

Rising to his feet, still keeping his head down, the Grand Inquisitor held out a datadisk, “There is a new Captain that recently joined the First Legion. A transfer who has yet to hold any position for a long period of time. He stood up to Commander Venderbilt after the battle. The exchange is on this disk. I believe you should see it. He brought up a valid point about the Inquisitorious and the First Legion. Perhaps we should not remain separated as two units. Both my Inquisitors and the First Legion are yours to wield. They are your left and right hands, both in your commands. Up to this point, they have been parallel to each other and not fighting together. This Captain pointed out that it is perhaps time our forces work as one.”

Lord Vader was silent for several moments. The Inquisitor sensed his Master was considering the words he had spoken.

Finally, the disk pulled out of his hand and floated to Lord Vader’s palm. Sensing the intent in the room, the Inquisitor bowed and left.

Welp, this sucked.

Kimmund laid on a bunk in the brig and sighed heavily. He knew he’d been here overnight judging by the meals brought to him. One for dinner. One for breakfast. It wasn’t his first time behind bars. He had a feeling it probably wouldn’t be the last time either. 

He’d been stripped of most of his armor. He’d thrown down his helmet in the hangar. He still wore his undershirt and the legs of his armor. With only that on his body, Jean felt practically naked even though he was covered. His armor was so much of who he was. 

At least the guard had taken pity on him and left him a pack of cigarras. Jean took his time through the night to enjoy every single one of them. He was either going to be court martialed, jailed for a while, or killed. This was Mustafar. He learned quickly in his few weeks here that it wasn’t hard to be killed here for stupid mistakes.

Maybe it was for the best. He never fit in back home. He didn’t have a place so far in the Empire. Maybe it was time to smoke his cigarras for one last ounce of pleasure and give into the end.

Too bad he didn’t get to hang out with Roz more. She seemed really cool. 

He heard footsteps coming down the hallway. He took another long drag of his cigarra.

Here it goes…

Venderbilt arrived at his cell door with his shitty smirk, grinning like he won the blue ribbon at a fair after he killed off all the other contestants.

“Get up,” Venderbilt pressed the button on the wall to make the ray shield fade away. “Lord Vader wishes to see you.”

“Lord Vader, huh?” Kimmund sat up and flicked the cigarra at Venderbilt’s boots. So the Lord of the Castle wanted to see him. “Best not keep him waiting then.”

It was a long walk up to Lord Vader’s office, but whereas he probably should have been more worried, Kimmund felt oddly at ease with everything. As they passed troopers, they stopped and saluted them. That was... odd. Troopers weren’t required to salute unless a special guest was here or if the commanding officer demanded it.

Venderbilt noticed it too.

And Kimmund had a sneaking feeling it wasn’t for the rich prick.

As the door to Lord Vader’s office slid open, Jean immediately felt the difference inside. The air was heavy and thick with the same charged sensation that he felt with the Grand Inquisitor. Only it was so much worse, almost stifling.

And there was Lord Vader standing in the center of the room with the Grand Inquisitor just off of his shoulder. Kimmund had heard other soldiers describe Vader. But he was way taller than Jean thought he would be. Granted, Kimmund wasn’t the tallest man. He wasn’t short either. But when someone matched a Pau’an in height, they were not a small person. It was… unnerving how much he was machine over man. He didn’t seem at all human...

As Venderbilt and Jean came into the room, the pressure and weight of the air pushed on his chest. But Kimmund stood at attention, exposed with no helmet and armor, and held his head up to the Master he served.

Venderbilt took a place beside him, not standing to full attention, bowing his head, “Lord Vader. You wished to see us.”

Lord Vader’s gaze held Venderbilt’s a long moment before facing Jean, “Inquisitor, this is the Captain you spoke to me about?”

“Yes sir,” the Grand Inquisitor stated.

Kimmund noted that the Pau’an’s little bit of personality from before was completely hidden away in front of their master. Good to know…

Vader strode forward and looked down at Jean.

Should… should he look Lord Vader in the eye? Did he have eyes behind that mask? The Grand Inquisitor was one thing, but this was the person in charge? He wasn’t saying anything. Why wasn’t Lord Vader saying anything? There was that pressure again like someone was feeling around in his brain. It wasn’t like he was a military commander, right? But he was still the Emperor’s right hand.

Kimmund kept his gaze focused forward, staring intently at the buttons on Lord Vader’s chest as they were uncomfortably close.

“State your name,” Lord Vader’s voice cut through the silence.

“Captain Arjean Kimmund, sir.”

“Where are you from, Captain?”

Kimmund flicked his eyes to the side. Venderbilt looked interested but slightly confused. This wasn’t the expected opening of conversation that the Commander hoped for. Jean’s eyes met the Grand Inquisitor’s. The Pau’an nodded slightly to him. Was that encouragement?

Jean looked forward again and swallowed hard, “Rylee, sir.”

“Where?” Venderbilt snorted.

The Grand Inquisitor answered, “It’s a planet in Wild Space known for hunting, farming, and trading outposts.”

Venderbilt blinked quickly, unsure why the Inquisitor knew that, “My apologies, Lord Vader. If I had known such an uncouth individual had been placed into your ranks-”

“Silence,” was all Lord Vader had to say to shut him up. He kept his gaze on the Captain, “Your records say that you have high scores in shooting with sniper training. Where did you get your training?”

Kimmund stated, “As the Inquisitor noted, Rylee has a lot of hunting. Farming was boring. I didn’t have a pilot’s license at the time for trading. So I learned to hunt from my uncle.”

The Inquisitor ventured, “Was he any good?”

“No. Which is probably why he shot his wife. Well, that and the liquor. Lots of drinking, fucking, and shooting things on Rylee, sir. People don’t got much to do there.” Kimmund smirked, “I was a much better shot than him. It got me into Myomar Academy for my Imperial training.”

Keep your gaze forward….

The Inquisitor picked up a datapad off of Lord Vader’s desk and glanced it over, “It says here you were to either enlist into the Imperial Academy or go to jail on Rylee.”

“Yes, sir.”

Venderbilt gasped, “So you’re a felon too!”

Jean snapped his head at him, “It’s not like I killed anyone! A prick cop threatened my cousin and wanted to take her farm. So I punched him a few times and shot him in the ass!” He looked forward again, “Shot him in the ass from over two hundred meters away. Took them five days to find me.”

“Lord Vader!” Venderbilt stepped forward, “If I may-”

A choking sound stifled him as Venderbilt grabbed at his throat. Startled, Jean’s eyes shot from Venderbilt to the Grand Inquisitor. The Pau’an wasn’t doing anything other than standing there and smiling a wide toothy grin at Venderbilt’s pain.

Then Kimmund saw Lord Vader’s hand rise from his side. It was clutched in a tight fist. Was he using the Force to choke the asshole? It was without a doubt the coolest thing Jean had ever seen in his life. Mouth slightly opened in awe, he probably looked like some excited girl at a Lucky Lekku concert as he finally looked up at Lord Vader in wonderment.

But Kimmund suddenly remembered his place as he saw his own reflection in Lord Vader’s mask. He quickly fell back in line to stand at attention. He couldn’t keep the tiniest grin off his face. 

Releasing a gasping Venderbilt who crumpled to the floor, Lord Vader flicked his hand at the Grand Inquisitor.

The Pau’an could feel his master was pleased so far with this Captain. Looking back over the datapad, he continued, “You have been transferred to eleven different infantry groups in three years. Explain in your own words what happened.”

“Permission to speak freely, sir?” Kimmund stared forward.

Lord Vader nodded, “Proceed.”

Kimmund hesitated. Instead of looking at Lord Vader, he glanced at the Grand Inquisitor instead, “Like I said before, I don’t like bullshit. All those other infantry units were full of thin skinned assholes who paid or fucked their way to the top. None of them had any actual skills other than talking too much. They’re so thin skin that if you sneeze too hard, they get their damn panties in a twist so fast it breaks their balls off.”

Venderbilt was back on his feet. His jaw dropped at such crass words. The Inquisitor simply grinned wider.

But Lord Vader still towered over him, emotionless and big like a black pillar. That feeling of Kimmund’s mind being probed had yet to stop. 

Lord Vader finally spoke, “What are your thoughts on Commander Venderbilt’s leadership yesterday, Captain?”

“Cowardly,” Jean spoke without thinking, but then hesitated. Maybe he shouldn’t throw a commanding officer out to the nexu like that. Glancing over to Venderbilt, the man stared back at him in shock. He looked scared and trapped like he was already in a room with three predators. His bottom lip was quivering more and more as the conversation continued.

Nah, fuck this guy. The jerk deserved whatever was coming for him.

Lord Vader continued his line of questioning, “How would you have handled yesterday’s battle differently?”

“For one, not put every single ship on Mustafar under maintenance at the same time. That’s just common fucking sense, sir,” Jean shook his head. “Rotate that kind of thing so there’s always some kind of air support.”

“The Inquisitors ships were not in the shop!” Venderbilt sputtered to try and save his own skin.

Jean snapped his fingers and shot him a finger gun, “Thanks for the nice lead into my next point. The Inquisitors. I have learned in my short time here that they have a completely separate mission than the First Legion. I understand that. But they are the most elite soldiers you have as they can use the Force and have superior weaponry with their… laser sword things. I don’t know what they’re called.”

“Lightsabers,” the Inquisitor interjected. “It’s not a ‘laser sword.’”

“Thank you. Lightsaber,” Jean motioned to him. “I got to see some of their training. They’re good in their own way. The First Legion is good in our own way. Separately, we’re effective. Together, we could be even stronger. I know they can’t be here all the time and they have their own Purge Troopers for their missions, but there’s no reason the Commander of the First Legion and the Grand Inquisitor can’t run some basic tactics to work together. We’re all defending your castle and your work, my Lord. We are yours to command.” He returned to standing at attention and kept his gaze forward.

“I… I heartily agree, m-my Lord,” Venderbilt tried not to tremble in his spot. “The Grand Inquisitor and I will start planning drills together soon.”

“No. We won’t,” the Inquisitor sneered at him in disgust. He could sense his master had made up his mind. 

“Commander Venderbilt,” Lord Vader finally turned away from Kimmund and faced the quivering man. “Remove your pauldron and hand it to _Commander_ Kimmund.”

“What?” both Venderbilt and Jean gaped at him.

Him? Commander? Jean jumped so many ranks and had only been here a few weeks! Holy crap… a Commander? No freaking way…

“No!” Venderbilt stomped his foot. “This man is some country bumpkin from nowhere! He comes from poverty and waste! My family has a decorated pedigree dating back to the Republic!”

“So make sure you pack up all those medals and shit when you move out of _my_ office,” Kimmund held out his hand. “Or else I’m gonna throw them in a lava pit. Now listen to Lord Vader. He gave you an order. Give me my pauldron so I can sanitize that nasty thing.”

Kimmund commanded the room. The Grand Inquisitor could see it. The change and the demeanor. This man quickly took charge of the role and it was his. They had finally found the right person for the job.

Venderbilt saw it too. His time was now over. Perhaps he could save a little bit of grace before leaving Mustafar. Clearing his throat, he reached up to his shoulder and worked on unbuckling the snaps of his armor with his shaking fingers, “Congratulations, _Commander_.” He sneered the word before continuing. “On my return to Coruscant, I shall put in a good word for you with my brother in the High Council.”

Jean scoffed, “I don’t care about that crap.”

The Grand Inquisitor reached over his shoulder, “Good.”

A snap hiss sounded as red light filled the dark room. The Inquisitor moved so fast, Kimmund barely saw the blade before Venderbilt’s head was on the floor. His body crumpled after it. With no head to hold it on, the pauldron fell off Venderbilt’s shoulders and landed at Kimmund’s feet.

Jean’s jaw fell open as a deep and genuinely surprised laugh slipped out of him, “That was awesome!”

“Glad you enjoyed it, Commander.” The Inquisitor sheathed his blade once more behind his back. “Pick that up. It’s yours.”

As he started to reach down, Kimmund hesitated a moment. He remembered his shitty dad running out on them. He remembered his drunken, slap happy mom and all of her fucked up boyfriends. His family, like his uncle, was trash. Rylee was a piece of shit planet. Everyone else thought he’d been a fuck up. His previous Imperial commanding officers overlooked him until he punched his way up through the ranks.

But now in Lord Vader’s office before the right hand of the Emperor himself, Arjean Kimmund finally proved them all wrong.

He scooped up the pauldron and tucked it under his arm.

Lord Vader gazed down at him, “That is yours to put on, Commander.”

Jean grimaced, “With all due respect, sir, I’m not in full armor. And I heard from some of the female soldiers on base that Venderbilt forced them to fuck him. I don’t know what freaky shit this thing has seen. I would like to clean it before putting it on my body if that’s okay.”

“Understandable,” the Inquisitor came to the middle of the floor with him to stand at his side.

“Thank you, sir.”

“No,” the Inquisitor looked to Jean. “You’re the Commander now. You and I are equal ranks. As you said, the left and right hand of Lord Vader himself. And you might just be the first Commander to think that.”

“Oh,” Kimmund grinned up at him, “I look forward to working for you. I have some ideas that I think the Inquisitors might enjoy.”

“I’m eager to hear them.”

Together, they faced Lord Vader once more. The Grand Inquisitor bowed to him. Commander Kimmund saluted him. 

Darth Vader nodded back to them, “Commander, your first order is to find someone to get this trash out of my office.” He motioned to Venderbilt’s body on the floor. “Then appoint a new Lieutenant Commander.”

“Sergeant Rosiland Rozetto is my choice,” Kimmund said without a second thought.

“See to it,” Vader turned away and went to the window.

The Grand Inquisitor turned to leave. Kimmund picked up on the cue and followed him out.

As they walked down the hallway together, Jean glanced at the Inquisitor, “Hey, thanks for vouching for me to be promoted.”

“You clearly underestimate how long I’ve wanted to kill Venderbilt,” the Pau’an grinned.

“No, I know. I’ve been here about a month, and I wanted to kill him on day one.”

The Grand Inquisitor pursed his lips in a tight smile. He couldn’t deny he was looking forward to working with this individual.

And this Kimmund pleased his Master greatly. He was pleasing to the Inquisitor too.

The Grand Inquisitor stopped at a crossway in the hall, “Now, go get into your full armor. We need to get you up to speed on your new duties.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I told you. I don’t outrank you anymore.”

Kimmund snickered, “What the hell else am I supposed to call you? ‘Yes, my equal in rank?’”

“Just go get changed.”

“Yes, my equal in rank.”

The Grand Inquisitor rolled his eyes and turned the other way. 

Maybe this was a bad idea after all. 

**Author's Note:**

> Artwork by @alizrak


End file.
